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The first time Wonbin ever heard Anton curse was on a late night in their dorm.
The group had already been spending most of their time together: training, performing, and attending to various work schedules throughout the day. Their personal time was limited to the time spent at the dorm: some members choosing to still hang around one another, others choosing to seclude themselves in their room, and some even leaving to meet up with other friends.
But on some nights, all of them would gather together. Whether it was to eat dinner, watch a movie, or simply engage in casual conversation, the dorm living room served as a comfortable place for them to bond and spend time together. It was nothing short of a blessing; how they enjoyed each other’s company beyond professional reasons.
The group’s activity of choice for the night? To hold a tournament with one of the fighting games they owned. Only after having ordered food from their favorite restaurant, of course.
Wonbin had already lost his spot earlier that night. Games weren’t his forte, so he had no expectations to get far. Besides, he found more enjoyment in watching the others bicker amongst themselves; trash talking one another and gloating when they’d won.
It was Anton VS. Sohee: a crucial match that decided who would be one of the two finalists. The game was neck-and-neck, there was no telling who would win up until the very end. The two landed continuous hits on one another, health bars matching up almost perfectly…
Until Anton messed up his flow.
“ No… No…! Fuck…”
The group’s collective energy exploded in the room. Some members sprang to their feet from the excitement, sounds of groans and laughter emerged at the youngest member’s mishap, and the victor let out a screech while running a lap around the couch.
As they took a short break to prepare for the next round, Wonbin processed what he just heard. He wasn’t fluent in English by any means, but he knew the popular curse words (why does everyone learn those first?), and that fuck was definitely one of them.
Did Anton just curse?
To Wonbin’s knowledge, Anton never cursed. Never in Korean, and not even in English. Anton was always polite around new people, or around those with more authority. But these were his members, his friends, his newfound family. There was no need to keep up the front.
Maybe it was the way he was raised, coming from an upper-class family with celebrity parents. Knowing every single one of his actions would reflect upon them, it would make sense for him to grow up aware of how others perceived him; to be a filial son and present a decent image.
The members loved to test his patience and joke around with him, most evident in their attempts to imitate his soft-spoken voice. Wonbin prided himself in getting it down fairly accurately, to which Anton would just laugh. But other members weren’t as good at capturing his essence, making Anton grumble a tiny “ugh, seriously…” at most.
But everyone did it out of love for him, and he implicitly understood that it was coming from a good place. Anton was patient, and he never seemed to get genuinely upset at things like this.
Anton’s voice was always so soft, so gentle, so much like cotton candy that you could barely feel on your fingers.
And it wasn’t just the nature of his voice, but also his choice of words—he only ever had kind things to say to those around him, as if that was all he was capable of speaking.
To hear something so crude from his mouth was strange, to say the least.
The tournament continued, but amidst the action around him, Wonbin found his mind elsewhere. He couldn’t stop replaying the sound of Anton cursing—Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It was just so uncharacteristic of him. Nobody else in the room seemed to think much of it. Did they not hear it? Did they not understand what he said? Did Wonbin mishear him?
Wonbin quietly watched the next match, trying to slowly gain back his excitement as he let the rowdiness of the room overwrite his thoughts.
•·················•·················•
The second time Wonbin heard Anton curse was on a night he was scared out of his mind.
The group had gone to film a series of videos at the amusement park, only able to start filming after it had already closed. It was customary for groups to go to the amusement park at least once, as if it were a rite of passage. An essential part of this rite was challenging the park’s haunted house.
And Wonbin hated this.
He’d already skipped out on riding the roller coaster earlier that night. The others encouraged him to just try it, that it’d be fun, that it wasn’t scary. But Wonbin knew his limits, and this wasn’t something he was willing to face. Unfortunately, that meant he used up his one pass—he couldn’t back out of another activity.
If the word “skittish” was a person, it would be Wonbin. He would jump at things that weren’t even meant to be scary, never mind having to deal with something deliberately frightening.
So of course when they divided into teams he’d ended up in the same group as the other scaredy-cats of the group. Could they even get past the entrance?
After a moment of negotiating, Eunseok had ended up on their team. His solid, stone-like demeanor was probably the only thing that could get their cowardly team through the house, anyway.
Their team finally entered the house, with Eunseok leading the way and Wonbin at the end of the line. Wonbin was irked by his surroundings the moment he stepped in, immediately feeling a chill down his spine and closing his eyes shut. In his head, he knew it was all fake. But once the door had shut closed behind him, the immersion of the house felt disturbingly real.
Even the smallest things managed to pull out a screech from Wonbin, completely uncharacteristic of the cool image he’d been trying to put up until this point. He didn’t care, he couldn’t hold it in even if he tried—he really, really, really hated this.
In between the blaring sounds that blasted through the haunted house speakers and the terrified shrieks that came out of their mouths, a familiar gentle voice emerged, akin to the light at the end of a tunnel.
“Wonbin hyung, hold my hand…”
It was Anton, there was no doubt.
Wonbin blinked open, his eyes still adjusting to the dark. He was trying to find the hand of the voice that called out to him, and the voice repeated itself—as if to guide his hand toward it.
“Hold my hand tightly…”
Wonbin spotted Anton’s trembling hand ahead and caught it in his own, abiding by its request. The sudden contact felt warm, a comfortable contrast to the biting chill of the air around them.
Wonbin slowly took in the details of the man in front of him: how even the round back of his head managed to look friendly, how his white jacket made it easier to spot him in the dark, how the jacket’s brightness against the dark seemed to emphasize the size of his frame—
“Oh, sh-!”
His thoughts were quickly disrupted when a figure from the shadows suddenly jumped out, making all (well, most) of them scream. He felt Anton grasp his hand a bit more firmly, and he reciprocated the pressure. It was a natural response to being startled, after all.
“Wow, fuck… it’s too scary…”
Amidst even more loud noises, the stress running through him, and the overall frenzy of what was happening around him, Wonbin heard Anton’s gentle voice let out a curse once more.
He secretly laughed to himself; he didn’t expect to hear it again so soon. Somehow, it surprised him more than anything else the haunted house had thrown at him up to now. It calmed his nerves, just thinking about how the crudeness of the word disappeared as long as it came from Anton’s voice.
It was his favorite scare of the night.
•·················•·················•
The third time Wonbin heard Anton curse was hours past midnight, in the quiet dead of the night.
The group had just finished yet another jam-packed day, but Wonbin didn’t feel tired enough to sleep. He found enjoyment in the quiet of the night—it provided a certain sense of comfort, and it slowed down the pace of his ever-busy days.
Also, he had a day off tomorrow.
It was hard to remember the last time he had a full day off, with absolutely no commitments to attend to. He had a newfound sense of freedom to do whatever he wanted: he didn’t have to think about any schedules, he didn’t have to stress about putting on his perfect idol face, and best of all? He didn’t have to be up by a certain time, which meant that he could sleep whenever he wanted.
So he spent the night scrolling on his phone.
He knew that this wasn’t a healthy habit to have. To be fair, he’d already been spending whatever free time he had doing relatively more productive things, like practicing, socializing, and shopping (yes, it was productive). After a long day like this, he didn’t have much brain capacity left to do anything else. Besides, he had to savor this specific night knowing it was leading in to his day off—free time leading into even more free time.
And honestly, he did enjoy it. In between replying to fans online (it wouldn’t be an entirely unproductive night if he still did his job, right?), he switched between his various social media platforms, all of which had perfectly catered to his tastes.
They catered to him so well, that before he knew it, he’d been scrolling his way into the next day.
He felt a slight twinge of regret for wasting so much of his time, but he had a long week, and this was his first time indulging in the mindless act after a while. Why not treat himself for just one night?
Drowsiness eventually started to wear over him, signaling that it was time to pass out for the night. Having been stuck in the same position for hours, he failed to realize that he didn’t once get up to go to the bathroom. He started to leave his bed, but the sluggish speed at which he was moving showed just how long his limbs had been asleep, how glued he’d been to the mattress beneath him.
Wonbin slowly opened his door and was greeted by the pitch black darkness of the living room; he figured everyone else must have already retired for the night. He made his way to the bathroom, reasonably expecting it to be vacant, but the light that slipped through the edges of the door told him otherwise.
He waited beside the bathroom door, wondering if it would be strange for whoever was inside if they opened it to him standing there. He thought about going back to his room to avoid the potential awkward interaction, but he knew that once he got on his bed, he’d never leave. So, he continued to wait.
“Fuck…”
A voice emerged from the door: almost unnoticable, barely there, but not enough to be completely mute. The delicate tone of it was so distinct, so unmistakable, so representative of its owner.
Wonbin immediately knew Anton stood on the other side of the door.
He felt as if his senses heightened with the sole purpose of figuring out what was going on inside. From the door emerged slick noises that gradually increased in speed, coupled with quickened breathing and an occasional quiet gasp.
Anton must have been doing that. What else could it be? Wonbin shouldn’t have been so surprised; it was just a normal part of human life. He did it every now and then, too; it made sense that everyone else would. He suddenly felt grateful that he had his own room, knowing that Anton only attended to his duties here because he still had a roommate.
The door’s attempt to muffle the emerging sounds seemed pathetic as it lost to the serene darkness, leading Wonbin to pick up even the most minute of them. The longer he stood there, the more he heard. And the more he heard, the realer the situation felt; reminding him that yes, these sounds were real, and yes, this was actually happening.
All the rational parts of Wonbin’s mind told him to go back to his room, to give Anton his privacy, to stop listening further for the sake of his sanity. But curiosity kept him frozen in place, ears wide open.
“F-fuck… W-Wonbin-hyung…”
The sounds that had only been playfully tickling his ears up to this point suddenly bit them, snapping Wonbin out of his daze. What was he doing, still waiting there? He absolutely couldn’t get caught listening, he had to retreat back to his room now.
Planning his escape, he scaled the distance he had to travel to get back to his room. He let out a silent prayer, hoping that the door between them would muffle his steps, that Anton would fail to catch his footsteps scurrying outside, that he would be so occupied in what he was doing.
But to even think about how immersed he would have to be, to block out the rest of his senses like that…
Wonbin cut that thought short.
Making it back felt like the scariest moment of his life, and by the skin of his teeth, Wonbin successfully returned to his room. He slowly closed the door; an attempt to stay quiet and mute the sound as much as possible.
He leaned on his door for a moment, recounting what he’d just heard. His state of shock ran so deep, he forgot why he’d even left his room in the first place—it was only when he heard the faint sound of flushing water that he remembered.
Afraid that Anton still hadn’t fully returned to his room, Wonbin waited for another moment—offering him a buffer period. At this moment, Anton was the last person he wanted to run into, and he was sure that the feeling was mutual. He couldn’t risk it.
Deciding the time was right, Wonbin finally made his long-awaited trip to the bathroom. How did such a simple act get so complicated?
Wonbin may have avoided the risk of physically running into him, but he failed to consider the mental aspect of the situation: it was impossible not to think about what occurred here just a moment ago.
His mind played tricks on him and repainted the scene: seeing Anton’s hand pump his length with his long and pale fingers, gradually increasing in speed. Hearing Anton’s desperation through his sharp, quick breaths. Wondering what could have possibly been on his mind as he was doing it, what kind of thoughts drove him over the edge.
Wonbin looked down at his own length, briefly curious. Before he could start anything, he shut his mind off as he finished his business and closed the distance between the two doors for the final time that night.
He slipped into his bed, trying to get as comfortable as possible so he could drift away to sleep. But his mind continued to work against him; manipulating his senses to recreate the scene in his head he so desperately tried to forget.
Anton’s voice continued to linger in his ears, with each aural hallucination complimented by a new vision in his mind. It was impossible to ignore the heat that pooled in his abdomen—as if it started speaking to him, begging for a release.
Wonbin admitted defeat the moment he slipped his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, moving his hand to feel how hard he’d gotten. He was so sensitive that he could feel each individual fingertip on himself, the warm contact alone being enough to drag desperate exhales out of him.
To think that cute, sweet, innocent Anton was so undone by the mere thought of him—enough to engage in such an impure act, to let out this hidden bit of crudeness, to even attach a curse to his name—it sent Wonbin’s mind to the most unholy of places.
“Chanyoung-ah…”
Completely taken over by his own instincts, the younger man’s name spilled from his mouth. His birth name, at that; not the name used on stage, not the one he was commonly known by, but his personal name, his more intimate name—the name only those closest to him had the privilege of saying.
The two syllables wrapped around Wonbin’s tongue, spreading an erotic feeling throughout his entire body. They tasted sweet, luscious, addictive. Wonbin had been put under their arousing spell, left completely intoxicated.
He spilled into his hand, coating it with the white, sticky substance that only served as irrefutable evidence of his arousal.
“Ngh, idiot…”
Wonbin drifted off to sleep, unsure if his final word of the night was directed at the man who drove him to do this, or at himself, for actually pushing through with it.
•·················•·················•
“Okay, so that leaves Wonbin with Anton…”
Soon to arrive at their hotel, the group had just drawn lots that decided which pairs would be roommates for the duration of their stay. A slight wave of dread washed over Wonbin, knowing that he would soon have to be left alone with Anton—this would have been the first time since that night they’d be alone together.
He felt Anton’s hand rest on his shoulder—a familiar touch he knew all too well. It was a friendly form of skinship initiated by the younger man, but it burned just a little hotter that day.
“Looks like we’re rooming together, hyung.” Anton said with a smile, ending with a soft giggle. It was almost insulting to see him so happy about it, completely oblivious to the fact that Wonbin already knew how he looked in his eyes.
Wonbin felt a slight twinge of betrayal, knowing Anton wasn’t as innocent as he let on—a sly fox.
By some sort of miracle, Wonbin had managed to keep things the same as usual; he acted as if that night never happened, as if his all his senses chose to lie to him and create a false memory.
When there had been an opportunity to be alone with Anton, he always chose the proper thing—the safe thing,—and excused himself in order to avoid it.
But Wonbin didn’t evade him completely, he couldn’t. Anton was just so fond of him: waiting for him to catch up so they could walk together, fixing his hair whenever it was out of place, and giving him reassuring looks whenever he felt nervous. He obviously liked Wonbin, maybe even a little too much.
And if Wonbin learned anything from that night, it was that he liked Anton a little too much, too.
Wonbin would have been lying to himself if he said a part of him wasn’t excited for the night ahead. They were going to have a room of their own, isolated from everyone around them: what would they talk about? What would they do? Would Anton try something?
What if nothing happened at all?
⏾
Throughout the day, Anton had been acting no different from his usual self—seemingly not-at-all affected by the fact that they were going to be alone together. Wonbin started to feel as if he got too in his head, getting anxious and excited all for nothing. Mulling over it would have done him no favors, so he chose to focus on his mental to-do list: washing up, winding down, and eventually knocking out.
Wonbin had finished his dinner earlier than the others, and he had excused himself to return to his hotel room early. Really, he’d just wanted a head start on showering. He didn’t want to leave Anton waiting, and he didn’t want to wait on Anton either—he always took forever in there.
With Anton currently in the shower, having been in there for god knows how long, Wonbin was satisfied with his decision. He had been settled on his bed, scrolling on his phone as usual (he was unwinding, okay?), relying on it to help him pass the time.
He chose the bed closer to the window, laying sideways as he faced the other bed in the room: it was still empty, waiting for its owner to come out of the shower. At least he wasn’t alone in that regard.
Anton finally emerged, a few drops of water were still clinging to his hair as some steam exited the door along with him. He looked comfortable in one of his oversized white shirts and soft pajama pants; half-contrasting Wonbin’s fitting black tank top and pajama pants look. He dimmed the room lights and slid into the other bed, also laying on his side. Though, it was with his back turned to Wonbin.
The distance between the two beds was already as far as Wonbin could bear, why did Anton have to face away from him, too? Were they not going to have even one conversation? Were they both just going to settle down like this and drift off to sleep, as if it were any other night?
Wonbin needed to do something.
He slowly got out of his bed and made his way to stand over the other, Anton staying in place the entire time. The broad shoulders in front of him stared back, the curve of them drawing Wonbin in.
His finger hovered for a moment, still unsure. He then poked the shoulder, resulting in a tiny jolt—an indication of surprise. Anton turned his head to face him, eyes narrowed, as he let out an equally tiny verbal response. “That scared me…”
“Anton-ah, I came over to bother you.” Wonbin said as he poked his shoulder a few more times. The younger man whined in response, “Hyung, what are you doing, you have your own bed…”
Wonbin pulled up the bed sheet as a means of telling him to scoot over and make room. While Anton fought back with his words, saying that he "shouldn’t come in" and that he should "go back to his own bed", his body communicated otherwise, shifting over and eagerly welcoming Wonbin into his space.
He was now on Anton’s bed, and the two of them mirrored one another in the space enclosed by the edges of the mattress beneath them. They both returned to scrolling on their phones, albeit with the added risk of being closer together. Wonbin paused for a moment; putting his phone down and taking in the presence of the man in front of him.
“Anton,” he spoke, and Anton’s hum that followed hinted that he already knew Wonbin wanted something from him. “Get off your phone. Let’s talk.” Anton followed him, because of course he would.
“The-the other night…” He paused for a moment, knowing that what he was about to say could alter his relationship with Anton forever. If he spoke any further, there would be no going back to how things used to be.
At this second, stuck in the middle of his sentence, he was still in safe territory. Still able to back out, if he wanted to. Was it worth the risk?
“I heard you.”
It was.
“Heard me…?”
Was Anton really going to make him spell it out? Saying it was already difficult as it had to be. It wasn’t that long ago, definitely not long enough for him to forget. There was no way he could.
It seemed as if the entire room suddenly condensed into the intimate space they shared, the air thick with an unspoken tension. Wonbin studied Anton’s face as his innocent confusion slowly shifted into a deeper realization.
The silence between them was deafening—as if even the most muted of noises would shatter the fragile stillness they shared. Wonbin was about to break it with a grave secret, but he still wanted to handle it with care.
So he moved his body closer, closing the distance between them even more.
“In the bathroom… touching yourself...”
Anton’s breath hitched; a silent affirmation that Wonbin caught him red-handed.
“...While thinking of me.”
Before even giving him a chance to respond, Wonbin swiftly grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the mattress. He was now hovering over him with a knee between his thighs, dangerously close.
Anton’s physique under him was nothing short of overwhelming that Wonbin’s attempt to trap him in place almost seemed futile. Anton’s body was a stark contrast to his own: his broad shoulders creating an outline that could engulf Wonbin’s smaller frame, his thick arms hiding dense muscles that were so clearly defined on Wonbin’s leaner form, and his prominent chest that made the fabric of his shirt curve, while Wonbin’s fitting tank top laid flat.
Anton shifted his gaze away from Wonbin’s; an obvious indication of embarrassment. He had yet to actually say anything, but the uneasiness of his breath told Wonbin everything he needed to know.
“You can’t do that, you know.”
Wonbin softly laid a thumb on the center of his lips, as if telling him to keep silent.
“...But, between you and me…”
Wonbin slowly brushed his thumb away and pressed their foreheads together, closing the distance between them. Anton’s eyes under him instinctively closed shut—whether it was a means of protecting himself, enhancing the feeling of the man on top of him, or preparing himself for a kiss, Wonbin could only guess.
“I really liked it… I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
Anton instinctively parted his lips, as if inviting Wonbin to come closer and taste him. Their faces were so close that the slightest shift in movement would bring their lips together, but Wonbin wanted to withhold the satisfaction from him for just a moment longer.
“...About you.”
Anton quietly squirmed under him and Wonbin found humor in his reaction, in seeing how desperate he could get. He moved his lips close to Anton’s ear, enough for him to feel the air that escaped from them, ready to unveil another secret.
“Would you believe me if I told you I did the same?”
Wonbin pulled back to gauge Anton’s reaction, finding a sultriness in his gaze as their eyes met. There were no more traces of embarrassment in his gaze, it was now replaced with something darker—full of lust, hunger, desire.
“Hyung…”
Anton had always called him by that name, a comfortable term of endearment. But under him, with their bodies so close together, and completely at Wonbin’s mercy, it rang unfamiliar in his ears, as if he’d never heard the word in his life.
Wonbin could no longer resist, finally closing the distance between their lips. Anton’s lips were soft against his own, so much like the gentle tone he always spoke in. It was almost comical how their kisses started off so light, so innocent—now knowing they shared impure thoughts of one another. It was as if they still wanted to keep it safe, though the rising heat between them spoke otherwise.
Wonbin felt his heartbeat quicken and his head turn lighter, getting drunk on the mere feeling of Anton’s lips on his. He poked his tongue through, trying to taste even more of him, and the little sound that left his mouth was enough to send Wonbin’s mind spinning.
He weakened his pressure on Anton’s wrists, and the newly freed hands found their way to his waist, the contact dragging a sharp gasp out of him. His hands felt warm on his body, the size of them enough to devour his waist. The feeling made him sink deeper into him, bringing their bodies even closer together.
He wanted to live in this moment forever. He couldn’t imagine not doing this, why they had avoided it for so long, knocking himself for all the wasted time they had spent tiptoeing around one another.
They parted for a second, and even then, it felt too long. Anton’s lustful gaze faded, turning into the familiar bright eyes Wonbin knew. Here they were, engaging in an act so obscene, lewd, maybe even forbidden. But he was so innocently giddy about it—his tiny smile turning into a small giggle. Wonbin found himself completely enamored, thinking about how lucky he was to have this sight under him.
“Why are you laughing…?” Wonbin asked, and was quickly caught off guard as Anton embraced him in response. His arms wrapped around Wonbin’s neck to bring him closer, the thickness of them driving him crazy all over again.
Anton brought his mouth close to Wonbin’s ear and whispered into it, mirroring his earlier tease. Now it was his turn to share a secret.
“Because I’m happy.”
Anton always caught Wonbin in his grasp like this, saying pretty words and doing things that made his heart skip a beat when he least expected it. Where did he even learn to do these things?
Wonbin brought their lips back together, their shared thirst for one another more evident than ever. His hands found their way to Anton’s soft hair, finding new parts of him for his senses to take in. Anton’s thumbs circled his waist, and Wonbin lost himself in their rhythmic movement. His senses continued to heighten with every noise that left Anton’s mouth—he was already blessed with all this, and he still wanted more.
Their hips grinded against one another, the soft fabric of their bottoms barely containing the heat that collected under them. Wonbin brought his hand down, using his thumb to tug at Anton’s soft pants—a silent command telling him to undress. As he obliged, Wonbin removed his own. Their hips met once more, separated by only the even thinner layers of their underwear.
Wonbin was mentally begging himself for a release, to just take everything off so he could finally feel Anton’s bare skin against his. But there was something so erotic about keeping a safety net—a soft, barely-there shield between their cocks—as if how good this felt was only the beginning, and the best was yet to come.
Anton broke away from the kiss; the feeling of their hips grinding against one another was getting too much, too fast, and he needed a moment to breathe. But Wonbin was desperate to keep his lips on him, trailing kisses down his neck and finding more of him to taste.
Anton softly moaned in response to every kiss, every lick, every nip at his neck. His noises turned more and more lewd—how was it possible for someone like Anton to sound something like this? Wonbin felt a sense of pride knowing that under his touch, he could turn the pure, sweet, and gentle Anton into someone obscene, sultry, and loud.
Wonbin was completely lost in the world of Anton’s sounds. He needed more.
He moved back up to tease a kiss over Anton’s lips—feeling a desperate gasp leave them, only to divert back to his ear. He pressed a kiss at the tip of his ear, slowly starting to brush his tongue over it.
“Oh, fuck…”
That word again. The same word that surprised Wonbin so many times before. It was because of that word that Wonbin had been able to peek into the crude side of Anton that had been a secret to everyone else. To think that word started it all.
Wonbin felt the need to give his thanks to it. To get Anton to say it over and over again.
Dangerously close to his ear, Wonbin started to whisper. “You know…”
Wonbin felt Anton shudder under him, and he was so cute like this—needy and desperate.
“When I heard you say that for the first time, it shocked me.” Wonbin’s hand landed at the waistband of Anton’s boxers, teasing him. He continued to whisper, hoping to drag even more sounds out of him.
“I couldn’t help but wonder…” Wonbin palmed Anton’s erection over his boxers, drawing a sharp gasp out of him.
“What else could get you to do that?”
Wonbin brought his other knee in, using it to spread Anton’s legs apart. The sight of the younger man in such a lewd position, ready to be undone by him at any moment’s notice, excited Wonbin in a way that almost terrified him.
He put his hands on Anton’s waist: fingers landing on the edges of his shirt and his palms on his bare skin, just as soft as the rest of him. This was a new part of him—uncharted territory, and he wanted to do all he possibly could with it. He slowly rode up his shirt to reveal even more of him; a desperate, breathy moan exiting the younger man’s mouth.
“Ugh, hyung…”
The sensual, yet shy nature in which he whined only riled Wonbin up even further, eager to reveal even more of him. He rode Anton’s shirt up far enough to expose his chest, revealing his already hardened nipples.
Anton covered his face with his forearms, and Wonbin thought it was his means to protect whatever he had left of himself. There was something about the way he had already given so much of himself to Wonbin, even willing to give him more, but a part of him was still too embarrassed to show it.
Anton’s chest was solid and well-defined: an obvious result of his decade-long dive into athletic swimming. Wonbin circled his thumbs around Anton’s nipples, making a desperate gasp escape from him once again.
All while planting kisses in between, he licked down the middle of his chest and eventually dragged his tongue to one of his nipples, kissing and sucking it until Anton’s back arched. He mirrored the action on the other side, Anton still hiding from him, continuing to exhale breathy, desperate appeals. “Hyung, please…”
The sight of Anton being so bashful under him was cute, but Wonbin had enough of him hiding. “Don’t,” Wonbin slowly moved one of his arms away, meeting the withdrawn gaze that hid behind them. “I want to see you.”
Their eyes met once again; the contact between them more intense and more desperate than ever. Wonbin couldn’t hold back the urge to kiss him, and Anton met his lips with eagerness. Kissing Anton had quickly become one of his greatest life pleasures, made only better with his attempt to amplify the younger man’s senses. His thumbs continued to circle his nipples, his other fingers joining to add in motions of gentle pinches and twists. Anton had gotten so noisy under him; it was music to Wonbin’s ears.
Anton broke from their kiss to speak, still barely breathing. “Wonbin-hyung, you’re such a pervert…” But was Wonbin the real pervert here? He wasn’t the one making such obscene sounds from having his chest played with.
“You don’t like it?” Wonbin asked snarkily, making Anton bite the inner flesh of his cheek in response. He didn’t say anything; as if he was too embarrassed to put his reply into words. But Wonbin didn’t need him to.
He looked down at Anton’s spread-out legs beneath him—it was nothing short of a miracle how their underwear stayed on up until this point. “Can I…?” the words left Wonbin’s mouth before he could even think about it, perhaps a sign that it was time to strip it off already.
Anton nodded, re-adjusting his position to sit up and rest his back on the bedframe behind him as Wonbin finally took off his boxers, revealing his cock that leaked with precum. Anton was now almost completely naked in front of him, the ridden-up shirt still on him making the sight more erotic.
His pale skin now blushed a bright shade of pink, making him look even more delectable than Wonbin thought possible. The marshmallow-like skin around his thighs called out to Wonbin—white, soft, surely delicious. Wonbin felt himself salivate, excited to taste yet another new part of him.
He traced his fingers over the exposed skin in front of him, the gravity of his touches centering around Anton’s thighs. They were just as soft as they looked; as satisfying to the touch as velvet. Anton looked directly into his eyes, making the moment more intimate.
Wonbin lowered himself to press kisses on his inner thighs, slowly moving inward to Anton’s cock that was practically begging to be touched, tasted, played with. “Fuck,” he heard him curse under his own breath again. “Wonbin-hyung, please…” When he asked this nicely, how could Wonbin continue to withdraw from him?
Wonbin brought one of his hands to Anton’s cock, the feeling immediately making the younger man whimper with pleasure. He circled the tip of it with his thumb, slowly brushing it downward.
He lowered his head close to the cock in front of him, placing a kiss on the tip of it and unveiling a moan so sensual and desperate, so unlike the Anton he knew, the Anton that anyone knew, really.
There was an extra sense of pleasure in knowing that he had this side of him all to himself.
While planting kisses in between, Wonbin dipped his tongue into the slit of his cock, slowly swirled it around the rest of the tip, and licked the underside of his cock. He was completely consumed by the heavenly feeling of having Anton’s cock in his mouth and dragging lewd noises out of him—he started to wonder what he must have looked like in the younger man’s eyes.
He looked up to see Anton staring back at him, completely blushed and eyes full of desperate lust—a silent plea for Wonbin to keep going. But Wonbin also knew Anton, enough to know he caught a glimpse of affection under his dark gaze. It made his heart race just a bit quicker; despite the vulgarity of the moment, Anton continued to hold genuine admiration for him in his heart.
Wonbin felt Anton’s hand start to brush through his hair, the feeling almost ticklish. He expected Anton to have hid away by now, but the younger man kept eye contact with him, holding it strong as he tucked Wonbin’s hair behind his ear. It was getting to be too much for Wonbin—now he was the one who wanted to look away.
Trying to distract himself from Anton’s gaze, he used his hands and lips in tandem, trying to send unholy sensations to him through his cock. “Hyung… you’re too much..” Wonbin gained a sense of confidence knowing that Anton was trying to fight back, but he was still in the lead.
“I can’t hear you,” he said before placing another kiss onto his tip, “You’re gonna have to speak up.” Anton grumbled under him, the lack of a verbal response confirming his defeat. Wonbin quickened the pace of his movements a bit more—
“Fuck, Wonbin-hyung…!”
Just before he came, Anton pulled Wonbin off of his cock. Anton laid back down, breathless, his cum now resting on his stomach. It happened so fast that Wonbin didn’t even recount it happening—one moment he was jerking him, sucking him, feeling him, and the next he had already finished.
Wonbin felt a sting of disappointment, wanting Anton to have released in his mouth. He stared at the cum that left Anton’s cock and coated portions of his pale stomach. The sight itself was something to behold; Wonbin did his best to capture every detail and engrave it into his memory. As if failing to control his impulses, he swiped his finger across the sticky substance, some of it catching onto his finger.
“Hyung, what are you…”
Wonbin put his finger in his mouth, eyes still on Anton’s, and he started to taste it. Anton was so sweet, delicious, addicting in his mouth that he wanted to come back for more. He wanted to plant kisses on his stomach—to get more cum on his tongue while tasting another new part of him.
But before he could even act on the thought, Anton had already grabbed him by the shoulders, moving to his wrists and pinning him down to the mattress.
The strength with which Anton had grabbed him was slightly rough, but undeniably pleasurable. Anton was so big, but he was always so gentle with Wonbin—the dissonance drove him completely crazy.
In the back of his mind, Wonbin questioned how he even had he upper hand against Anton up to now—he could have definitely pushed him off and switched their positions much earlier. But he was enlightened by the thought that despite that, he allowed Wonbin to devour him however he wanted to. He let Wonbin have him.
Now Anton was on top, straddling Wonbin’s thighs and trapping him in place.
“Wonbin-hyung… you’re annoying.”
Wonbin had his fun, but the position he currently found himself in told him that he would have to prepare himself for Anton’s revenge.
As trainees in the practice room and up to now as idols, Wonbin had always served as his teacher, as his mentor. Anton had diligently listened to him and had followed his instructions to the point of perfection, a model student.
But at this moment, Wonbin almost regretted teaching him so well—Anton was touching him in all the right places, and it felt too good, almost mind-numbing.
He mirrored Wonbin’s earlier actions: riding his hands up his tank top to touch, kiss, and lick his chest in all the right places. Whatever Wonbin did onto him, Anton followed.
Anton pulled back for a moment to pause what he was doing, obviously contemplating something in his head. Wonbin was getting impatient, but he was too prideful to ask for Anton to come back and keep going—a little too prideful to beg.
What Wonbin forgot was that students couldn’t fully thrive from merely following their teachers; the true sign of success was exceeding them.
And Anton was the perfect student.
Anton swiped two fingers on his own stomach, collecting a remainder of his cum on his fingers. His other hand cupped Wonbin’s cheek and pried his mouth open with his thumb, slowly slipping his fingers inside. Naturally, Wonbin gave in. How could he not?
Anton kept his eyes on Wonbin’s the whole time, not breaking contact once. Wonbin used both of his hands to hold onto the base of Anton’s hand as it still rested inside his mouth. His grasp holding onto it was needy, and he looked back at Anton with a ravenous glint in his eyes.
Anton went back to playing with his chest, leaving kisses, licks, and even bites that were sure to leave a mark later. His free hand started to feel up Wonbin’s chest and circle around one of his nipples, while the other hand was still in place with two fingers in Wonbin’s mouth. Wonbin closed his eyes shut, hoping that the self-imposed loss of vision would heighten the rest of his senses, making him taste Anton more deeply.
Having just licked all the cum off of his fingers, Wonbin started to drag Anton’s hand downward, making him stop to look back up at him. Not once separating from Wonbin’s body, the hand brushed down from his neck, to his chest, to his stomach, and finally to his cock—leaking, ready, and desperate for him.
They locked eyes, gazes on each other dark, intense, passionate.
“Touch me, Chanyoung.”
Anton’s hand wrapped around Wonbin’s cock, and his thumb teased the tip of it. He leaned in for a kiss and Wonbin let him in with enthusiasm, placing his hands across Anton’s jawline as if to keep him there in place forever.
Wonbin’s senses were screaming with pleasure: Anton on his lap, the faint taste of his cum shared between their lips, his large hands feeling the most sensitive parts of his body. He felt as if he could cum right at that moment, but it was far too early—it wasn’t enough. He wanted more; to completely drown in Anton.
“Slow down,” he said as he broke away from the kiss and pressed their foreheads together. “...Don’t go too fast.” Ever so obedient, Anton followed.
They paused for a moment, alternating breaths and taking in each other’s presence. Anton’s hands stayed in place and softened their hold, but the heat from them continued to circulate on Wonbin’s cock and chest. In turn, Wonbin softened his hold on Anton’s jaw. He slowly caressed it, and brought one of his thumbs to the center of the lips he couldn’t get enough of.
“Good boy.”
The words immediately flustered Anton: he turned a more evident shade of pink, and he gave in to the instinctual reaction to physically make himself smaller. He rested his forehead on Wonbin’s shoulder as he retreated his hands back to his own chest, making Wonbin wonder if the words struck a nerve in him.
The words had given him some space and allowed Wonbin to breathe for a moment. He brought his arms up to capture Anton in an embrace, keeping him close. He loved the feeling of Anton’s sturdiness on him; it provided him the kind of warmth and comfort only found in weighted blankets.
This was the cutest he’d ever seen Anton; Wonbin was completely enamored.
Anton’s head still rested on his shoulder, and Wonbin was close enough to hear him mutter under his breath. “Hyung, you’re not fair…” Every action, every sentence, looked so cute in Wonbin’s eyes. Anton was so easy to love.
After a moment, Anton raised his head and pressed a kiss to Wonbin’s cheek. Wonbin held back a laugh at his attempt to act prudish, but somehow, that kiss was the most intimate one they’ve shared up to this point—he had to find a way to hide how much it made him blush.
But he couldn’t hide from Anton, not when he had just finished his moment of embarrassment, and definitely not when he had just grabbed both of Wonbin’s hands with one of his own, pinning them over his head.
“What are y-” Wonbin was suddenly cut off by the feeling of Anton’s lips on his, and he felt the rest of his sentence melt away. He continued to melt into Anton’s touch as he felt his free hand return to his cock, teasing the tip once more.
Anton started to stroke his cock, capturing his soft moans in between kisses. The feeling of wanting to cum was already returning, but this time Wonbin couldn’t fight back; he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.
Wonbin felt Anton’s grip loosen for a moment, immediately being met with the feeling of Anton’s cock on his, the strength of his grip returning to hold their cocks together.
“I want to cum too,” Anton quietly breathed on his lips, stroking both their cocks together in his hand.
“I want to cum, Wonbin-hyung…” Every single one of Wonbin’s senses was amplified by the sound of Anton’s desperate plea to cum, coupled with the sound of his own name.
In response, he repeated his name like it was a prayer:
Chanyoung.
Begging him,
Chanyoung.
Honoring him,
Chanyoung.
Worshipping him.
They came almost in unison: Wonbin released first, a burst of white coating both of their chests. The sight of Wonbin, so filthy under him, sent Anton over the edge and splattered the same warm, sticky substance on both of their bodies.
Anton fell forward to rest his head on Wonbin’s shoulder once more, Wonbin catching him in another embrace. Weak and on top of him, chest still heaving, Wonbin brought one hand up to caress Anton’s hair. They laid there for a moment, stuck in the memory of the sound of their names intertwining as they climaxed.
⏾
The two slowly returned to their senses, still refusing to part their bodies completely. The burning heat of their desperation turned into a gentle warmth, Wonbin nestling against him and finding a place on his chest. Anton slipped an arm around his shoulder, keeping him close.
“Ugh… Anton, you have too much energy…” Wonbin scolded him, albeit jokingly.
“Sorry…” The younger man shyly apologized as he avoided his gaze—there it was, the side of him Wonbin was more used to seeing. Was he really still shy after all of that?
After another moment of silence, Anton spoke.
“Can I kiss you?”
The question caught Wonbin off guard, and he quickly looked away. Anton’s inability to hold eye contact suddenly made sense to him.
“Stop acting cute…”
“I’m not, though?”
“Do you really have to ask after all that?”
“I won’t, then…”
Anton turned his head down, unable to catch the smile that started to form at the corners of Wonbin’s lips. Who was Wonbin trying to fool? No matter what Anton did, he would have been cute in Wonbin’s eyes. It was effortless; he didn’t have to act or pretend.
A soft chuckle left Wonbin’s lips as he cupped Anton’s cheeks, bringing him in for another kiss.
•·················•·················•
Anton heard a knock at his door; the pattern of the sound already indicative of whom he would open the door to. It was Wonbin, looking up at him with his big, round eyes.
“Anton, come to my room. I want to talk to you.”
No you don’t. Anton thought. He instinctively knew what Wonbin wanted, so…
“No.”
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Wonbin whined, visibly annoyed.
Wonbin tugged on the sleeve of Anton’s hoodie, and started to lead him to his room, sleeve first. Anton heard soft grumbles talking about how annoying he was, how he never listened to him anymore.
It was just a joke, of course. Anton only liked riling him up on purpose. Wonbin was always so cute when he sulked—when he whined about not getting his desired outcome.
And it was almost funny how much he complained about Anton never listening to him, when any other member would agree that Anton actually listened to him the best.
Fuck…
I really like you, Wonbin hyung.